


Get On Your Bikes and Ride

by Rhanon_Brodie (Glass_Jacket)



Series: Stungun Lullabies [4]
Category: Arctic Monkeys
Genre: M/M, Rimming, ass eating, dat ass, one-minute man, or Jamie's, this is my homage to said ass, why hasn't anyone breached the subject of Alex's monumental ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 11:30:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7713325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glass_Jacket/pseuds/Rhanon_Brodie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You make the rockin' world go 'round.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get On Your Bikes and Ride

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr; you know me: I like to keep my works together as much as possible. Neat and tidy, tight and needy.
> 
> This idea formed mostly as Alex's glorious ass did, but also from pics taken at Helders' bachelor party in Germany. The morning after pic with Jamie, Nick, Matt, Matt's dad, and the unknown guy always left me wondering: where is Alex, and why does Jamie look so damn smug and hungover? When I can't find a reasonable answer, I make one up. Enjoy.

They’re in the airport in Frankfurt the first time Jamie makes a comment. Flying for eight hours to meet Helders halfway around the world for a last hurrah seemed like a good idea a few weeks ago, but that first barb Jamie throws Alex’s way is enough to make the younger man suddenly feel very off center. He’s not used to it, the cutting wit of the guitarist: he hasn't been for a while - they’ve not seen each other for a few months now. Alex is more used to being the one calling the shots; has been since he’d started touring with Miles again, and he wonders briefly if any of Jamie’s acidity can be chalked up to the fact Alex has been riding around the world with the Wirral Riddler.

“Kinda poured inta those jeans there, eh, Al?” Jamie breathes as he bends to scoop up his carry-on, eyes tracking the shredded knees and thighs of the denim stretched over Alex’s legs.

Alex shifts, pressing his thighs together - not so lean now that he’s given up smoking, and he’s got a good woman to cook with. Biting his lip, he gazes down for a moment and suppresses the urge to burst into inexplicable tears. It’s not that he’s overly sensitive about the weight gain; on the contrary, he’s actually quite excited to have actual _muscle_ where he’d once been a little scrawny. Instead of taking the bait from Jamie, he shrugs, thankful for the dark sunglasses.

Jamie’s not wearing his, of course, they’re tucked into the collar of his t shirt, and his blue eyes restlessly wander all over Alex’s body in a way that makes him feel like a very short fuse on a stick of dynamite.

Oh, it’s been so long, he realizes once more. The only other time he’d felt this dire urgency to drag Jamie into a dark corner and snog him madly was when they’d met in the summer and Jamie’d had an armful of Forrest. Call him cliche; there was something about this man holding his baby that just struck Alex right in the gonads with the most wonderful feeling.

A sharp, quick _snap_ against his buttocks brings him back with a less-than elegant yelp, and he glares at Jamie who’s smirking, wielding his passport with a flick of his wrist. “Wonder what else bounces like that?” Jamie utters with a wink before moving off towards customs.

Alex shifts again, aware of the sting in his arse, and the pull of his jeans, across the back and in the front now, too. Shouldering his leather carry-all, he scans the area and spots Helders where he stands with his brother and his dad. Alex shuffles off, head down, shoulders hunched, and blending into the crowd.

+

There’s filling out, and then there’s _filling out_. Jamie’s certain the latter has something to do with the fact Alex is rarely seen with a cigarette these days. Really, that’s the best decision Alex has made in a long time, and Jamie’s happy for him, really, the health benefits are phenomenal but…

_Damn_. Alex has never looked that good in a pair of jeans before. At least not in the seat. The younger man had always been a bit scrawny, packing on a few pounds and a bit of muscle during their _Suck It And See_ days, but this...this was something else entirely. It seems as though Alex has given the old two-finger salute to his claim he’d never wear a vest again - it seems par for the course now, and all that lovely muscle is bunched and packed into biceps and triceps and lats and it’s making it very hard for Jamie to concentrate on anything Nick is chattering on about where they stand outside the restaurant where they’ve all planned to meet for dinner.

Daydreaming had always been reserved for Alex. Now, however, Jamie can see the attraction, and while Nick’s voice is a steady cadence and tone, interspersed with quick drags from his cigarette, Jamie’s thought process is something like: _thighs, hips, waist, ass, ass, ass, god that’s a right twink arse, dip in his spine made for resting me hand, or maybe a beer while he’s bent over for me, torso - pecs! Arms, arms, arms for days, but god I want all of him and his hands_ \- 

“Here they come now,” Nick suddenly announces.

Jamie blinks and looks round, catching Nick’s eyebrow that’s raised pointedly. Then he glances up the lane to see Matt and his father strolling up the lane, while Alex brings up the rear, fluidly sauntering while craning his head round to take in the facade of historic Hamburg. _Still walks from his hips_ , Jamie notices, and of course Alex walks the same, but...maybe it’s the extra curves suddenly wrapping those limbs that makes it seem all just a little bit brazen. Slack-jawed and wide-eyed, Alex sweeps a hand through his dark hair, grins lazily at locals and gives them his best German. He’s always been quick to say hello, especially if he’s had a few drinks before hand. Judging from the gleam in those dark eyes, he’s buzzing proper. Jamie suddenly realizes how much he’s missed Alex, and all the little nuances he possesses. It hits him in the chest like a blazing fist that unfurls and curls fingers around his heart. Coughing, he quickly averts his eyes and nods at Matt.

“All right?” Nick mutters, not missing how Jaime’s gaze had lingered on Alex, and quickly swept away as his cheeks began to redden.

Jamie doesn’t answer, merely croaks and shrugs, and pulls a hand over his dark blond waves. When he looks back, Alex is just suddenly _there_ , hovering at the edge of Jamie’s personal space, a bit too smug for Jamie’s liking. The older man has never liked being this transparent, especially in front of other people but Alex just has a way of making any walls he puts up seem made of flimsy gauze. He smells so good, smells the same as he always has, his signature cologne mixed with a bit of booze, and that sleepy warmth just emanates from him at all hours. He looks good, too. Sure, Jamie’d gotten a glimpse earlier in the airport, but that had been scruff and sunglasses and tattered jeans, hair tied back - _tied back_! Now Alex slinks in black on black, a snug, sateen fantasy, and Jamie gives his head a shake when he realizes that Alex’s lips are moving, and have been for quite some time.

“Wot?” Jamie mumbles.

“I said, ‘Are we gonna move inside, or d’ya wanna joost eat out here in the street?’”

Jamie blinks. “Ehhh...inside, yeah.” He turns on his heel, eager to dodge the smugly expectant look in Alex’s eyes. He knows. He bloody well _knows_ what he’s doing, in those pants, with those thighs, looking like that. How can he _not_ know?

+

Alex is a nervous wreck. 

Thinking that perhaps a gin and tonic might ease his rattled nerves at the thought of spending the evening in close company with Jamie, one had quickly multiplied to three on an empty stomach, causing him to more or less sail to the restaurant for dinner on the good ship Beefeater on a sea of fizzy tonic with a lime-green sunset. Now he’s seated across from Jamie at a table and there’s beer being poured and passed, menus flipping open, and the din from the restaurant is bearable, but it’s all adding to the machine in Alex’s brain that cranks out thought after thought of Jameh.

_Jameh_ in the arrivals gate, five o’clock shadow, paper thin t shirt, broken-in jeans, looking like some long lost California dream. _D’ya still ride yer motorcycle?_

_Jameh_ dragging those blue eyes up and down his frame while they gathered luggage and meandered through customs. _Stop makin’ those eyes at me, babeh._

_Jameh_ close at hand, warm, and solid, older and leaner in the face, brighter and bluer in the eyes, so much the same and so completely different that Alex wants nothing more than to see if he’s real, to just reach out and - 

“...grabbed a right handful of his arse.”

A round of snickering happens at one end of the table, teasing little jeers thrown Alex’s way, and he sits up straight, blinking, tuning into the story. “Wot?”

“Up at ‘ackney, aye?” Nick grins. “At your show there, when Miles were like...two knuckles deep on that ass grab!” Nick snickers again, and Matt shakes his head with a fond chuckle.

Alex’s cheeks heat - top and tail - as he remembers very distinctly what Nick is referring to. He’s not necessarily embarrassed by the act itself; it is just Miles, after all, and neither of them are strangers to the myriad of ways in which they touch one another, on stage and off. While Alex admits that Miles’ fistful of cheek was a bit...well, cheeky, it was all in good fun.

At least until _after_ the show.

“The ‘ackney?” Jamie echoes a little too gruffly for Alex’s liking.

Memories of what went on after the show at Hackney Empire go up in smoke. Alex dares to cut his gaze to the blond, and he withers under that glare, suddenly feeling much smaller than his five feet, six and one-quarter inches that’s folded into a cushy chair. He shrugs, trying to come off like it was no big deal but he’s got a feeling he won’t be able to use that as an excuse. Not with the way Jamie’s staring at him, daring him to wind his way out of this tale.

Nick is already thumbing through his phone. “Yeah, lookit, Kelly sent me the pic that’s buzzin’ round the internet, aye?” He laughs and then his eyes turn mischievous as he stares down at the phone screen. “Right, this one.” 

Alex is helpless as he watches Nick hand his phone over to Jamie, who looks like he’s accepting a handful of nuclear waste, if his face is any indication. Alex holds his breath and watches Jamie as he scans the screen, staring at it like he’s able to make it disintegrate. His hand tightens around the phone so hard that it starts to shake, and then suddenly his mouth curls into a cruel smile. 

“Didn’t see that from where I were standin’,” Jamie utters, before handing the phone back to Nick. “He’s a bold one, then, eh?” It’s a stiff string of words, choked out for propriety more than anything, really - if he doesn’t turn this into a joke, there will be too many questions later on. Questions surrounding he and Alex always lead to to the inevitable, and Jamie’s not sure he can handle that again. Instead he smiles tightly, picks up his beer and drains it, and excuses himself to the loo.

+

The image of Miles standing to one side, his right hand full of Alex’s asscheek, huge smile plastered on his scouser mug, is burned into Jamie’s brain. It shouldn’t be, and it shouldn’t be affecting Jamie the way it is, but he can’t help it. He knows Alex isn’t his, never really was, except for maybe those days in the desert, or perhaps that pocket of time in their youth. Jamie’s married for chrissake, father to a beautiful baby boy, and Alex has a woman’s name permanently etched into his arm, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that Jamie wants Alex. He supposes, with a modicum of acceptance, it will always be this way, and he’ll live with it. It’s been a nice break with Alex touring The Puppets but there’s something in the distance, something coming their way, and Jamie knows it won’t be long before they’re sharing quarters and clothes, beds and beer, as life on the road begins anew.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss it.

Then again, how can he miss something he’s not sure he knows anymore? There’s a disconnect, Jamie can sense it, and it’s not necessarily bad, but he’s struggling to come to terms with it: Alex, it seems, is all at once the same and very, very different from the person he was in South America two years ago. The scent is the same, but the flower has bloomed differently.

They’re in a bar, two hours gone since dinner, and Jamie’s huddled up at one end of the long counter, Zack Michael chattering with another two or three blokes in Matt’s entourage, and Jamie’s trying his best to keep up with the conversation while he keeps Alex’s location on deck. He watches, from the corner of his eye, as the dark-eyed man slinks through the crowd - and he _does_ slink with a little grin on his face as the alcohol slips through his body. He’s a shot of one-hundred proof, sliding, winding and weaving through the crowd, hips rolling as he does. It seems as though all eyes are on him, too, and he doesn’t mind in the least - he’s come a long way from the kid who claimed to hate being the center of attention.

He’s well and truly checking out Alex now, those slick black pants a second skin, hugging his thighs and hips and that _ass_ \- where the hell did he get that ass? His shirt appears to cling to his shoulders, too, and his chest, hitching at the dip in his lower back and while Jamie had always appreciated Alex’s lanky body, it seems that this new one, rife with meat on the bones, is a veritable feast.

And Jamie wants to be first in line for the smorgasborg.

+

“So, wot’s been up your arse all fookin’ night?” 

Alex has slammed into the bar next to Jamie, flagging the bartender down for another beer, and causing Jamie to choke on his own drink in the process.

“Eh?” Alex snarks, digging his elbow into Jamie’s side. “Wot’s the matter, James, ain’t got nowt to say? You did earlier; couldn’t shut your mouth, or keep your eyes offa me-”

“Tha fuck is wrong wiv you?” Jamie hisses, shooting Alex a gaze of flashing anger.

Taken aback, Alex blinks slowly, and lets a grin split his face. “I should ask you the same fing.” Narrowing his eyes in thought, Alex takes in the way Jamie’s hunched shoulders are tense, how his jaw is tight, his lips pressed tightly together. “C’mon, you’re obviously pissed about summat, yeah? S’the matter, Cookeh? You can tell me.” By this point Alex knows he’s needling, but he doesn’t much care. Really, he just wants to go back to dinner and smash Nick’s phone, and erase the memory of Jamie’s face as he registers the hold Miles has on him, but it’s an immature thought. He’s made his bed, and now he just wants to lie in it with Jamie.

He tries a different approach.

“Look,” Alex says softly, ducking his head and looking up at Jamie from under his eyebrows. He pauses as his beer is delivered, but he doesn’t pick it up and drink it; merely runs his fingers down the condensation on the glass. “I’m sorreh you had to...find out about that...you know...like that. It’s not like I were trying to keep it a secret, or anythin’. It joost...it’s Miles.”

“I don’t want your apologies, Alex,” Jamie groans, covering his face with his hands. He steadily drags them down his skin, pulling at the tension. “An’ I don’t want your excuses, either.”

Alex’s eyebrows go up and he sits back, pouting at his beer. “Well, what _do_ you want?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he knows what the answer is going to be, and he’s got some sick fascination with making Jamie jump through hoops. He doesn’t bat an eyelash when Jamie softly replies,

“Joost you.”

Alex snorts, shrugs his shoulders, and wipes his thumb around the rim of the glass. “We back to this again?”

Jamie swallows tightly. “I didn’t think we’d ever left.”

“Don’t,” Alex pleads. He puts a hand on Jamie’s arm, the heat and firmness of his skin and muscles beneath a start contrast to the cool, wet numbness in his fingers. “Please, don’t do this again,” Alex whispers. “M’tired of it, Jameh, an’ you are, too. We’ve been round the bend and back again that I can do this wiv me eyes closed but...will you look at me?”

Jamie lowers his gaze to the bartop and then finally turns his head and fixes Alex with his stare. In that moment he’s deflated by the look of worry creasing Alex’s brow and making the corners of his eyes crease.

“ _I’m_ sorreh,” Jamie utters. “I saw you and...old habits, I suppose. I’m a dickhead, Turner, always have been when it comes to us. I’ve never been satisfied with the endin’-”

“We’ve never written the ending to this story...let it be a million epilogues, Jameh, if that’s what it takes. I never want us to end. But...sometimes...other stories take priority. You know that as well as anyone.”

Jamie moves then, and covers Alex’s hand on his arm with his own, squeezing the digits and drawing his thumb over the back of Alex’s hand. “So where does that leave us?”

“Drunk, in a bar, in Germany. We’re here to celebrate with Matthew, as his friends.” Alex turns his hand over and laces his fingers with Jamie’s, giving them a little tug. “I wanna have fun, Jameh. Wanna have fun wiv _you_ , while you’re here, while we can. Unabridged, unedited, uncensored.”

Jamie’s eyebrow goes up at the last sentiment, and he can’t be blamed for the way his eyes flicker down over Alex’s curving musculature. “Unclothed?” Jamie venutres.

“Unabashed,” Alex breathes, watching as Jamie slides from his stool and moves into his space.

“Uninhibited,” Jamie declares, dropping a hand to Alex’s hip, squeezing. He searches Alex’s face as those long lashes flutter and his soft mouth drops open with a huff. Flexing his fingers again, they slip down, and back, and Jamie can’t help but squeeze the flesh that’s filling his hand. “Unbelievable,” he murmurs, angling his head down towards Alex’s.

Alex’s other hand comes up and firmly plants itself on Jamie’s chest, fingers curling into the soft, blue cotton of his button down. “Unwise,” he murmurs, staring at Jamie’s mouth. “At least, here, perhaps. But later?” His dark eyes widen as Jamie’s hand tightens on his bum. “Easy, tiger,” Alex chuckles.

“Unavoidable,” Jamie grins. His hand relaxes, sweeping over that not-so-subtle curve until only his fingertips linger, burning a path before he pulls them away. 

“Unfair,” Alex whines, before taking a cautious step back. “We’re being unsociable,” he points out, glancing to where members of Matt’s fifteen-man entourage are clumped throughout the bar.

Jamie turns back to where they were sitting moments before and grabs Alex’s beer before ordering a fresh one. He hands Alex his glass with a wink. “Then let’s make the rounds, love, and do our duty, so that when I sneak you out of here, no one can say we didn’t make the effort.”

+

Thank god for German techno and dance clubs. They have no idea how they’ve ended up here, or where they got the glow-stick necklaces from, or where Alex’s shirt has ended up, but they’re in the thick of it, all fifteen of them worked into the massive crowd, bumping and sweating to the beat that is thundering in the room. There’s cheering and shouting and whistles blowing, sirens crowing, hands go up and the strobe lights _flash-flash-flash_ , until the image is burned onto the back of the retina.

At some point, Jamie and Alex are crushed together, and they can’t really say it was all by accident. Having located his shirt once more, Alex merely pulls it on, forgoes the buttons, and then he’s twisting his hips and grinding all over the front of Jamie’s pelvis. For his part, Jamie is hypnotized, clamping his hands onto those curves, pulling and moving Alex along him and the ridge of his cock that strains beneath his fly. All he sees is Alex in hues of red and blue and violet; all he smells is Alex, rushing heat and alcohol, sweat and salt and the underlying sweet that’s a phantom crawling on his spent body for days to come; all he feels is Alex, Alex everywhere, plump and pliant, firm, rounded, angled. Briefly, he wonders if they’ve been slipped e, but the feeling is too familiar, and yet incredibly new, and altogether superb. It’s rushing his veins; his very existence is making Jamie’s head swim so badly that he stumbles back, and draws Alex’s startled, wide-eyed attention.

“Jameh?” he calls over the roar.

Jamie blinks and slowly shakes his head. The room seems to be gasping for air, or is that him? Alex’s hand steals around his wrist and he tugs Jamie forward.

Jamie pulls his hand free, and then lays his palms on either side of Alex’s face, holding the younger man steady. He nods, as if to say he’s fine, but he knows he’s not, he never has been, not when he and Alex are pressed together like this. He moves then, swift and sure, and finally kisses Alex. The room ignites around them, the lights blare hot yellow, the music changes course, still pounding, but deeper now. With their foreheads pressed together, and Jamie’s hand curving round to claim the sweetly curved dip of Alex’s lower back, their pelvises connect like magnets. They grind; there’s not other way to describe the heat and pressure created by the bodies as they hump each other through their clothes. And they’re kissing, too, hot and tangled breath, tongues, fingers in hair, arms around necks. Alex’s mouth is hungry, his hands greedy as he holds Jamie close, and Jamie is just as ravenous, perhaps more so. Parting wetly, they pant, and stare at one another.

“We need to-”

“-get outta here.”

+

“I want you,” Jamie moans desperately, pushing Alex into the wall just inside his hotel suite. “I want you, I want you, I want you,” he whispers, each echo more heated than the last. His hands force Alex’s jacket and shirt off with one rough shove, revealing taut, smooth shoulder muscles under pale golden skin. His pecs are defined, as are the hollows of his armpits, and Jamie is enraptured with this new physique he’s about to explore. 

Alex watches helplessly as Jamie descends, and his hands settle in the dark blond waves and tug and pull the older man closer. A smattering of kisses, hot and open-mouthed, trail down Alex’s torso, and he hisses sharply as Jamie’s whiskers scrape over his nipples, only to whimper when that rough mouth soothes him moments later. Those hands, broad and strong and still calloused from the guitar, pull at the skin of Alex’s ribs. Jamie’s tongue follows the ridges of bone, whirling down through the dark hair between Alex’s pecs, over the lines of his abs, until he’s nibbling the edge of Alex’s navel. He pauses and looks up, and Alex sneers and snaps his hips forward, conveying his need.

“More,” he snarls roughly. The tip of his tongue finds the corner of his mouth as Jamie’s chin rubs over his erection.

Gripping Alex’s thighs, Jamie grunts and nods, and then stands once more. Alex is just about to protest when Jamie turns him, pushing him face first into the wall before attacking Alex’s back much like he did his front. He leaves bite marks in Alex’s shoulders as he walks his fingers down Alex’s spine, and he hooks them into his belt at the back of his pants. Here he gently pries Alex away from the wall and arches his own hips forward until he’s pressed tightly into the yielding firmness of Alex’s wondrously thick ass. Jamie groans, glancing down, finding the image of his denim-snared erection gliding up and down the backside of Alex’s tight slacks to be something he’ll always cherish. For a moment he merely ruts, holding Alex’s hips, pulling the boy back while he pushes forward.

“Goddammit, Alex,” Jamie huffs. His hands tighten their grip, and his eyes squeeze shut in an attempt to control himself. He’s panting when he asks, “Where’d you get this arse, babeh?”

Casting a sly look over his shoulder, Alex giggles, the sound like cool water rippling over river stones to flood Jamie’s senses. He gives his hips an experimental roll and gasps in delight as he feels how hard Jamie is.

“Hmm, that’s what this is about? My arse?”

Jamie licks his lips and pulls back far enough so that he can cup one cheek, squeeze, and then draw his hand back and deliver a good, sharp _smack_. Alex bounces, on his toes, and beneath Jamie’s hand. “Yeah, this arse right here,” Jamie answers, giving the heated flesh another squeeze. Taking a moment to catch his breath, Jamie leans into Alex, flattening him to the wall, his nose pressed to the hair curling behind Alex’s ear as he snakes his hand between the wall and Alex’s pelvis.

Alex’s fingers scrabble up the wall and he turns his head and whines as Jamie tears open his belt, his button, his fly, pushing everything down and out of the way. He grunts when the head of his cock, hot and tingling, taps the cool plaster of the wall, and leaves a sticky trail of precome. Jamie’s already got his fingers in his mouth and is licking a wet swath up his palm before his hand closes around Alex’s cock and tugs sharply.

“Jesusfuckchristjameh,” Alex stutters, sucking in a breath. “I-”

“Shhh shhh,” Jamie hushes him, pulling at Alex’s earlobe with his lips as he flexes his fingers around Alex and starts stroking in quick, light passes. “D’ya know how good you feel righ’ now?”

+

His thoughts go blank as Jamie’s hand slips up to the first few inches of Alex’s cock and twist and squeeze, just the way he likes it. Forearms bracing on the wall, Alex shifts his feet apart as best he can, still trapped with his feet in his shoes, and his slacks and briefs shackled around his ankles. He glances down, staring with dizzying arousal at the sight of his cock disappearing in Jamie’s grip, only to reappear, slicker, thicker, and adorned with the kiss of deep purple engorgement. Biting his bottom lip, Alex’s world tips as his head lolls back to his shoulder, and he whimpers and jerks his hips in time with Jamie’s hand.

He’s gone from feeling almost embarrassed by the few extra pounds he’s gained, and being irritated by Jamie’s seemingly callous comments, to being on top of the world, adored and worshiped by Jamie’s hands, and mouth and - 

“God, babeh, joost like that, you always know, don’t ya? Always know ‘ow t’touch me.”

Jamie hums his agreement, one hand still working restlessly on Alex’s length, the other pulling and prying apart the fleshy globes of Alex’s ass. The younger man is straining, wanting so bad to have Jamie’s mouth right there, but he’s almost afraid to ask, as if perhaps Jamie just isn’t interested in doing _that_ anymore.

“Ask me,” Jamie rasps, his grip moving Alex’s foreskin down and up and down and up. Then he pushes his thumb through the slick, sticky mess and adds it to the mix on Alex’s shaft. “Ask me, Al.” Jamie swallows thickly and puts his lips right next to Alex’s ear, sending a tight tremor up Alex’s spine. “Say, ‘Please, Cookie, eat my ass.’”

It’s barely half a second later when the mumbled echo sounds: “Please, Cookeh, eat me arse.” He’s drunk on the alcohol, but mostly on Jamie, and his words are slurring together with the excitement in his blood. “Please,” he whispers again. “Please, please, _oh please babeh, pleasepleaseplease-ah_!”

Before he’d been cut off, there’d been a _jingle-clang_ of a belt, a rustle of fabric and a zipper, and then the distant thud of Jamie falling to his knees. Now, hot, wide palms are planted on either one of Alex’s ass cheeks and the flesh is lifted, separated, and he can’t help but give a little bend at the waist and show Jamie how much he wants it. There’s no hesitation, no preamble, just a growl that Alex knows is paired with a smile, and the wide, wet swath of Jamie’s tongue taking liberty with the snug, sensitive ring of Alex’s ass.

“Hold it open,” Jamie hisses when he pulls back for a breath. Turning his head to one side he sinks his teeth gently into that rise of flesh and Alex presses up on toes still encased in his shoes. With quick flick of his wrist, Jamie delivers a smart, bright _smack!_ to each cheek, and then growls before delving his tongue deep once more. When he sits back again, he repeats the command. “Spread ‘em, babeh, hold it open for me, c’mon.”

With a withering moan Alex slumps forward and his cheek flattens against the wall as he reaches back and cups his ass cheeks and pulls, his face flaming with lust-tinged shame as his bottom lip trembles in a plea. “C’mon,” he sobs, “c’mon an’ fookin’ ea’ it, Jameh baby.”

The growl from Jamie’s throat comes when his mouth is attached right where Alex needs him most, and the vibration crawls up through Alex’s hips, making his dick throb, and leak where it bobs between his thighs, neglected. The sensation sweeps up Alex’s buttocks, his back, his shoulders, and collides with his dirtiest thoughts, now being brought to life. He pouts and sneers, his breath blasting hot and fast against the wall as Jamie licks him, unfurls his tongue and blatantly fucks him with it, getting every inch of Alex hot, and wet, and ready. 

With Alex holding himself open, Jamie’s hands are free to roam. He takes advantage of himself, glancing down to see the rigid, swollen state of his length before he grabs hold of it and strokes, speeding himself along the track to catch up with Alex. He whimpers, startled at how hot and thick he feels, how sensitive the underside of the tip is, and by the amount of clear, slippery fluid already leaking there. His balls give a sharp twinge of bundled pleasure and he hisses, and then pushes his face between Alex’s ass cheeks once more. Alex wails sharply at Jamie’s renewed gusto and jerks his hips back, planting himself right on Jamie’s mouth.

He’s shaking, Jamie realizes, or maybe that’s Alex. Whatever the case, he’s aching in places he’d long forgotten about, the strip of skin behind his balls tingling while his own ass clenches at Alex’s taste, and the sounds he’s making. The younger man has started to beg, and sob, pleading for Jamie to do something - _anything_ really, that he’ll be Jamie’s good boy, “ _I’ll be sooch a good boy, Cookeh, joost want ya in my ass. M’ready. M’so fuckin’ ready, Jamie, please._ ”

+

The blond switches gears again, throwing Alex for a loop. This is new for Jamie - not that Jamie is all about routine, but there are certain steps he usually takes, no deviation from the path when his goal is in place. Alex thought he’d be pulled from the wall, tossed to the bed, legs thrown over Jamie’s shoulders but he’s still pressed in place, one of Jaime’s hands fisting his hair, the other reaching between Alex’s thighs, cupping his balls, squeezing, tugging, fingers slipping through all that spit and precome.

“Steady,” Jamie murmurs. “Keep holding that ass, baby. God, that’s gorgeous, yeah? You know what I’m gonna do?”

Alex waits a beat and realizes that Jamie is waiting for his reply. “No,” Alex whispers, his eyes fluttering closed.

Jamie gives a smug hum and fists his cock before settling the tip right against Alex’s arse. “I’m gonna fuck you, Al.” He pushes in, breaching the snug ring, making Alex keen and pant. Letting out a quick breath, Jamie groans and pulls back, and then pushes once more, past the tightness, into snug, slick heat. “Oh, god, m’gonna fuck you, fill you up, make you mine all over again.”

Alex is nodding, babbling incoherently, trying to hold still, to fuck Jamie back, to do something before his brain fizzles and he passes out. The blond feels incredibly huge, impossibly hard - has it really been so long since he’s been with Jamie in this capacity?

_What other capacity have we ever been in?_

A quick, hard surge of Jamie’s hips wipes the thought, and all others, from Alex’s mind, and he shuts his eyes as his mouth widens in a soft, pathetic howl. Hands anchor his hips, pulling him back further, pressing down against the curve of his lower back to find the right angle, all while his face is still plastered to the wall. He hears Jamie curse, feels him shudder, and then he starts to move in deep, rhythmic waves, slowly working his way into all the places left untouched after so long.

The tempo changes immediately, and Jamie’s usually soft, reserved groans, and slow, easy lovemaking give way to a rapid-fire fuck that spirals out of control. Alex has no choice but to take every jarring thrust, letting Jamie bang him into the wall, his own cock still weeping, still agonizingly hard, and every time Jamie connects with Alex, Alex can only yelp, and groan, and whimper. His hands grip his ass until his fingers cramp, and Jamie’s hands cover his as the blond buries his face in the back of Alex’s neck, a handful of quick snaps of his hips up, deep, hard, hot-

“Shit!” Jamie’s voice is tight and frantic. Out of control, unable to stop, he rails Alex senseless, sending the boy sliding half an inch up the wall by with the force.

It’s a surprise, the sudden frantic fervor that the blond displays. Alex knows Jamie’s tells, knows when he’s about to go off, and he pants and wiggles, and tries to get his. “Jamie!” Alex pleads. _Joost a lit’l more, babeh, c’mon_ , he begs silently.

Flexing his fingers on Alex’s hips, Jamie bucks hard once, twice, “Ah, _fuck_ , Alex!”

It’s there before Jamie knows it, his orgasm blindsides him and sends him hurtling into space, his hips a blur as he comes quick and sure, still pounding Alex’s ass, his heart hammering in his chest, ears ringing madly, vision sparkling while he gasps for air.

Alex is rattled, pinned to the wall, Jamie blowing thick and hot breath into his hair, thick and hot come into his ass. The younger man sobs and blinks his vision back to focus before checking his faculties, noting that his dick is still very much hard, and Jamie is already wobbling in the aftermath of climax. 

With a whine of disappointment, Alex shoots a glare over his shoulder at Jamie. “The _fuck_ Jameh,” he growls. “That all you got?”

+

The next morning Jamie can barely keep his eyes open at breakfast. Five of them are crowded into a booth, Matt at Jamie’s side, Nick and Trent on the other side, while Matt’s dad had pulled up a chair to the end for the duration of the meal. Plates pushed aside, sleeves of Beck’s are delivered, and Jamie’s head fizzes at the sight of golden effervescence swarming the surface.

_He’d slumped against Alex, his blood simmering in his veins as his lungs were forced to catch up with his heart, sounding like he’d just run a marathon. “Fuck,” he’d uttered once more, before his hands slipped from where they held Alex’s to Alex’s ass. Disengaging almost as quickly as he’d slipped inside, Jamie used his other hand to hold himself up from the wall, still shaking and shivering all over._

“You didn’t eat your hashbrowns,” Nick points out, peeling back the foil cap on his little bottle of Actimel. He takes a healthy swallow, grimacing at the taste, before draining it in one go, and then setting the empty bottle aside. He then reaches for the fresh beer. “Danke schoen, Deutschland,” he grins, tucking into the beer.

Jamie grunts and pushes the fingers of both hands through his hair before coming to a stop halfway through the mop, and setting his elbows on the table. He closes his eyes.

_As soon as Jamie stepped away from Alex, the younger man gulped a few times and then shakily crouched, gathering the waistband of his pants and boxers before hauling them back up his legs as he stood. He winced a few times, but didn’t make a sound. Behind him, Jamie collapsed on the bed, pants still slung around his ankles, his shirt barely covering his shrinking erection._

_“Guess you better be headin’ back,” Alex muttered, fastening his jeans with a grimace of distaste as the remainder of Jamie’s orgasm trickled down the inside of his leg beneath his slacks._

_“Whu,” Jamie huffed, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he watched Alex try to make himself look presentable. “Why - I…” he’s flailing, completely at a loss, not only by his lack of fortitude, but at Alex’s cold demeanor. “Al, it’s not...I’m not…”_

_“Yeah, sure, I get it, James. Happens to everyone now and again.” He moved passed Jamie on the bed, only to have a hand wrap around his wrist and tug him to a standstill. Pursing his lips, Alex stared ahead for one moment, gathering his courage. Then, he turned his eyes, hard as obsidian, to Jamie. “Got what you wanted, eh? Even took less time than allotted. Suppose you can make it back to your room without too much-” Once more Alex is cut of by another quick yank, this one hard enough to bring him tumbling to Jamie’s lap, his legs falling to either side of Jamie’s thighs._

_“Shut up, Alex,” Jamie sighed, curling long dark waves behind Alex’s ears. He cupped the singer’s face once more and surged up, pushing a kiss to that full bottom lip. “I...I couldn’t help it. I’ve been...thinkin’ on that all day. All damn night.” His hands dropped to Alex’s thighs, squeezing the newfound flesh there, and then slid around to pull at the twin mounds of Alex’s backside. “Thinkin’ bout this arese, babeh. Been drivin’ me fuckin’ mad. Couldn’t wait to have you. And now that I’ve got you, I ain’t letting you go any time soon.”_

Jamie’s phone buzzes. He blinks his eyes and looks around blearily. Nick is nearly done his beer; Jamie’s is untouched. He pulls his phone towards him, sees Alex’s name appear with a banner of a text message. He opens it and pulls his beer towards him, taking a sip as he reads.

The caption says, _**Look what you did to me, Cookie**_.

The picture, of course, makes Jamie’s eyes go round, and he chokes on his beer as he gets what he figures is the best angle Alex can get, showing off one smooth, beautiful swell of ass full of bruising bitemarks and... _jesusfookinchrist is that me handprint?_ Jamie narrows his eyes as his cheeks flame and he remembers - 

_Flat on his back, Alex in his lap, faced away, runaway reverse cowgirl - er, boy. The younger man had happily bounced up and down Jamie’s dick, pushing his ass down into Jamie’s pelvis, making sure that he gave Jamie every aspect and opportunity to ogle and touch and stare. He’d giggled triumphantly as Jamie’s hands had clutched, his voice strangled with warning. In the next moment Alex had paused and hopped off, leaving Jamie’s dick stranded in the cold air, wet, and painfully hard._

_“You want more?” Alex asked, moving to sit astride Jamie’s lap once more, this time facing him. He wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking lazily, thumbing through the slick mess oozing from the tip as he pursed his lips. “Want more of me arse, babeh?”_

_Jamie was already reaching for Alex’s thighs, trying to push him back into place, but Alex was shaking his head, moving to plant his hands on Jaime’s chest with a gravelly giggle. “Tell me you want it,” Alex whispered, looking down into Jamie’s eyes. “Tell me you want **me**.”_

_“I want you,” Jamie murmured with a small smile._

_Alex hummed and rolled his hips, sliding his ass back until Jamie’s cock rested in the cleft of it. He raised his hips and lowered them, grinding back against Jamie. “Yeah, I know babeh, wanted me so badly you popped off in under four minutes. Must be a record or summat.” He giggled again as Jamie growled and reached for Alex’s ass._

_When he’d gotten a handful, Jamie squeezed, moving firm, warm flesh around his dick and angling his hips for a moment, reveling in the sensation. “Don’t blame me,” he huffed. “Blame this arse of yours. Got me spinnin’.”_

_“Yeah?” Alex grinned triumphantly and gave his hips another wiggle, his cheeks flushing prettily._

“Is that Al?” Matt chirps.

Jamie quickly looks up and closes the message screen. He can feel his face heating but he nods anyway. “Ehhh...yeah. Still recoverin’.”

Matt snorts and takes another healthy swig of his beer. “Wha’ th’fuck ‘appened to you two anyway? We were at that club an’ when we left you were nowhere t’be found.”

“Ehhhmmm…” Jamie pauses once more as his brain serves up a steaming image of Alex on his back, his hands wrapped around the headboard, cursing Jamie out and calling him all manner of names as Jamie had thoroughly pounded the younger man into the mattress. “He found me at the bar, said summat about suddenly feelin’ it - th’booze, I guess.” It’s a fairly lame, as far as excuses go, and he covers by grabbing his beer and taking another sip while his phone buzzes again.

“Well, tell ‘im to get down here an’ meet us, yeah? God, he’s probably up there watchin’ fookin’ cartoons again,” Matt huffs.

Trying to be as casual as possible, Jamie slides the phone down from the table and sets it on his thigh, opening the new message from Alex.

_Definitely **not** watching cartoons_. This time there’s a video, short, about ten seconds, and it’s already playing. Thankfully the volume is turned off - not that it matters much; Jamie has a pretty solid idea about what it sounds like anyway. He watches as the video loops a second time, and there’s Alex again, backed against a pile of pillows, his knees drawn up and apart so Jamie can see _everything_ he plundered the night before. Alex is lazily stroking his length, movement akin to how he’d strum a guitar, and his other hand is reaching down beneath and around his thigh, so his fingers can can press between his ass cheeks. Jamie sees Alex’s thighs tense in the silence, and he knows Alex is whimpering, hissing at the slight ache and burn leftover from only hours before.

_“I can’t,” Alex whispered, lashes fluttering against his cheek as he turned his head and sighed with every brush of Jamie’s lips down his neck._

_“Sure ya can, Al,” Jamie had promised, licking the singer’s Adam’s apple as his hands pried those not-so-lean thighs apart._

_“Babeh, you fookin’ **ruined** me arse,” Alex whined._

_“Hmm.” Jamie paused, and then slipped inside without warning, making Alex arch and tense, and shudder. “Still feel fookin’ fantastic t’me, Al.” He gave a deep, languid thrust, which caused Alex to arch off of the bed. Jamie met him halfway and delivered another fevered kiss full of promise. “All of you. Every inch, curve, and angle.”_

_Alex could only nod frantically, his throat tightening with emotion at Jamie’s words. Instead of replying, he kissed the older man, dragging him down and wrapping his legs around his hips._

“Is he comin’?” Nick asks.

Jamie looks up to see Nick’s wry expression, one dark eyebrow raised.

Fumbling, Jamie clicks his phone off and puts his hand over it where it still rests on his thigh. “Ehhh, no. He’s...um...says he’s probably joost gonna sleep for the rest of the day.”

“Well, maybe he’ll come later,” Nick says pointedly. “You’re good with him - you always seem to get him to come along.”

Pursing his mouth into a hard line, Jamie shoots Nick a warning glare while Nick merely shakes his head and downs the remaining inches of his beer. Emitting a soft belch, he grins at Matt and then nudges Trent so he could slip out of the booth. “A nap does sound rather...rejuvenatin’,” Nick murmured. “You look like you could lay down again, too, Cookie.”

“Yeah,” Jamie said absently, glancing down as he got another message from Alex. “Yeah, gonna go lay down. Grab an ass.”

“What?” Matt asked with an uncertain tone.

“A nap,” Jamie choked out. “Just gonna...yeah, fookin’ knackered. We still on for dinner later?”

Matt shrugs and then nods for Jamie to slide out of the booth as well. They all stand and dig into their wallets to leave the tip, as Matt’s dad paid the bill.

“Yeah, I’ll come get you and Alex around six.”

Jamie nods in agreement once more, and they move through the restaurant towards the elevators.

+

The shower is running when he gets back to his room. The sound of rushing water, and the unmistakeable crawl of Alex’s tired, craggy baritone both make Jamie shiver and grin. Already he’s crossing the floor, toeing his shoes off as he unbuckles his jeans, before tugging his shirt over his head. He shucks the remainder of his clothing before he steps into the bathroom, and opens the door to find the walk-in stall occupied by steam and spraying water, and a very naked, very soapy, Alex.

“Was wondrin’ ‘ow long it would take for you to get back up here,” Alex calls smoothly, glancing over his shoulder to where Jamie shuts the door behind him and walks naked across the tile. When the door is yanked open, Alex shivers, but he doesn’t move more than that, and watches as Jamie’s bleary eyes start to brighten as they take in every sudsy curve the trail of soapy, foaming bubbles takes down the planes of Alex’s slick body.

“You know,” Jamie mutters, moving into the stall and closing the glass door behind him, “if I remember correctly, you got rather pissy with me for being in a hurry last night.” He lifts the bar of hotel soap from where Alex had dropped it into a little nook, and lathers his hands. 

Alex turns, his eyebrow raised just like it was only ten hours before. It wavers, however, as he takes in the show Jamie’s providing, lathering his chest and shoulders, down his abdomen, to his groin, and through the dark curls that surround his half-hard cock. He rinses his hands off under one of the multiple shower heads and grabs the soap, lathering once more. “So now you can wait. I’ll take my time and enjoy it, Alex. I’ve no doubt you will, too. Turn round, yeah? Let’s get you cleaned up before I go and get you dirty all over again.”

Alex giggles and turns, settling his forearms on the wall of the shower as Jamie works soap up and over Alex’s back and shoulders, sweeping his flanks and hips, until he’s cupping those twin cheeks once more.

“An here I was worried you wouldn’t like me gettin’ thick.”

Jamie hums, scooping soap suds up the crack of Alex’s ass and smoothing them over again, making peaks on the hills. “What are you on about, babeh? I love cake. Love seconds even more.”

“Did you joost-”

“Shhh,” Jamie hushes Alex, slipping himself against Alex’s back, pressing their soap-slicked torsos together. “You gonna give me another slice?”

With a grin and a giddy sigh, Alex lets Jamie slide his feet further apart, and he gives his bum a little wiggle into Jamie’s pelvis. Halfway turning once more, he sends Jamie a sultry look from under his wet lashes. “Got a whole corner piece with your name on it,” Alex murmurs, before sucking water droplets from his top lip.

“Gonna save the frosting for last, then,” Jamie decides, cupping Alex’s jaw and pushing their mouths together.

The roar of hot water does nothing to drown out their rich double-layer moans iced thick with decadent passion.


End file.
